


Criminal

by FantasySwap



Series: Morgue [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Daddy Kink, Dark Klaus, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Murder Husbands, Praise Kink, dark Diego, ex-detective diego
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-02-23 19:31:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18708535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasySwap/pseuds/FantasySwap
Summary: Diego set up some strict rules for Klaus when they first arrived at Allison’s flat; not many, just enough to keep them both safe and keep Klaus under Diego’s thumb, where he belongs. He’s not allowed to leave the apartment without Diego’s express permission. He’s not allowed to contact anyone, whether that’s online or using Allison’s landline. Diego destroyed Klaus’ phone before they even got here, and besides, he kind of likes being the only person the boy can talk to.But, above all, he is on no account to tell Allison the truth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Felt down so i wrote this before finishing anything else... whoops? :D

Diego checks twice before he crosses the road. This is not because he’s suddenly paranoid about pedestrian safety or worried about traffic lights randomly malfunctioning. Paranoid may be the right description of him right now, but he’s been paranoid ever since they first arrived at Allison’s apartment.

 

There’s a cafe a block away from her apartment that promises free wifi and a complimentary donut on your fifth visit. Diego is not particularly bothered about free donuts - the opposite, actually: he probably shouldn’t be visiting so regularly - and in reality there are closer cafes that he could be going to. There’s one right opposite the complex which would certainly save him a journey, but on the off chance that anyone does happen to be out looking for him it would be better not to lead them directly to Klaus.

 

Diego can’t fucking escape his paranoia. Especially not these days.

 

He’s going crazy, it feels like, cooped up in Allison’s apartment all day every day without anything to do but watch TV and wait. It feels like he’s waiting forever, for anything, he doesn’t know what. The cafe visits, if they can be called that, are his escape; he’ll sit with a coffee for ten minutes, no more, no less. Using his new, supposedly untraceable, phone, he checks the news for any signs of their faces or a case that sounds vaguely familiar. So far he hasn’t come across anything, and he doesn’t know whether that’s good or bad.

 

Then he leaves, and checks twice before crossing the road.

 

Allison’s apartment isn’t fancy, really. She has enough money to buy a fancy one, she probably has enough money to buy this whole apartment building if she wanted - they all do, really - but Diego likes the fact that she’s gone for a more simplistic approach to life. It’s so unlike her that he can’t help but appreciate it, can’t help but think maybe he never really knew her like he thought he did growing up.

 

He takes the stairs to Allison’s apartment: fifth floor so it’s a bit of a pain, but it’s better than leaving a trail of security footage behind in his wake. Besides, he never gets out of the house anymore, and he could probably use the extra activity. He can only imagine how stir crazy Klaus is going, but at the same time he struggles to feel guilty about it.

 

Diego set up some strict rules for Klaus when they first arrived at Allison’s flat; not many, just enough to keep them both safe and keep Klaus under Diego’s thumb, where he belongs. He’s not allowed to leave the apartment without Diego’s express permission. He’s not allowed to contact anyone, whether that’s online or using Allison’s landline. Diego destroyed Klaus’ phone before they even got here, and besides, he kind of likes being the only person the boy can talk to.

 

But, above all, he is on no account to tell Allison the truth.

 

They’re simple rules and they should be exceptionally easy to follow - Diego has only made them,after all, to protect Klaus - but the boy very clearly doesn’t appreciate the sentiment. Whenever Diego is about to head out to the cafe he sulks and whines and begs to go with him until they end up in an argument that usually finishes with Klaus slammed up against the wall and Diego’s hand locked around his neck, rutting against Diego’s thigh until he comes.

 

Which is why it completely takes him by surprise, then, that when he gets back and unlocks the door with his spare set of keys Klaus is happy to see him. More than that, the kid seems fucking thrilled, and Diego only just has time to catch the underneath of Klaus’ thighs when the boy leaps at him.

 

Klaus clings to him, legs wrapped tight around his waist with his arms throws over his shoulders to cross behind his neck. Diego can’t help but pinpoint all the ways he’s changed since he first saw the boy, even if they’re only physical. His hair has grown a little, it’s even more of an unruly mess than before, and his eyes look brighter, as though being in the presence of someone who doesn’t want to crush his spirit has been good for him. But there’s more than that, something Diego can’t quite put his finger on.

 

It’s in the way he moves, the way he holds himself. Fluid and lazy and unaffected, confident in a fucked up way that he’s never shown before.

 

“Missed you,” Klaus mumbles into his neck, curly hair tickling Diego’s chin. Diego can feel that Klaus is hard, cock pressed tight between their bodies as he slides a second hand down the boy’s body to rest on his ass. Whether or not Klaus genuinely thinks its for support rather than out of Diego’s desire to touch him everywhere isn’t clear.

 

“I’ve only been gone five minutes.” Diego answers sceptically, kicking the door shut behind him and dumping his keys on the kitchen table. He makes his way towards their room, the room he shares with his boy, already thinking of all the things he can do when he gets Klaus all spread out on the bed beneath him.

 

Klaus still hasn’t sucked him off. Klaus has never sucked cock and there’s something absolutely fucking delicious in the way Diego knows he’s going to be the first, but he’ll save that for another day. Right now he just wants to get inside Klaus as fast as possible, wants to spread his legs and finger him until he’s trembling, see how many he can take inside before it gets to be too much and he’s sure those pretty tears on display become genuine.

 

“No,” Klaus whines, words muffled against Diego’s body. He thrusts his hips forward against Diego’s stomach so that he slips and almost falls, only just managing to cling on safely. “I _missed_ you.”

 

Diego raises an eyebrow and smirks, the hand splayed on Klaus’ ass drifting a little so he can slide his index finger over Klaus’ hole through the thin fabric of his underwear. Klaus shivers and locks up, like he isn’t sure whether to press down on it or shy away from the touch.

 

“I’ve only been gone five minutes.” Diego repeats with a shit eating grin, and Klaus blushes bright red. It may just be his imagination - perhaps wishful thinking - but he can almost feel how Klaus’ hole is still a little stretched from earlier on, still empty and desperate for more.

 

Their room isn’t anything particularly special, just a regular guest room in a regular apartment, but there’s a long, wide bed planted right in the middle of the floor that Diego just can’t wait to throw Klaus down on. The sheets are already rumpled and the entire room reeks of sex, and when Diegolets Klaus fall to the mattress and bounce, all long limbs and uncoordinated movements, he lets out a primal, animalistic groan. Klaus is where he belongs: on his back with his legs spread, and his pretty little hole wet and ready for Diego’s cock.

 

Diego falls right down with him, hands planted in either side of Klaus’ head. With their faces this close together Diego can see Klaus’ face a little better now, enough to see that his eyes have been ringed with the tiniest amount of dusky kohl and his lips are shiny with gloss. The corner of Diego’s mouth twists up meanly and he thumbs at Klaus’ bottom lip.

 

“What’s this, huh?” He asks, low and quiet. Klaus blinks up at him sincerely, lips slightly parted and panting. Diego splays his fingers wide and drags his hand down Klaus’ side, over his ribs and waist to rest on his hip. Goosebumps pop up on his skin when Diego hooks his fingers just under the waist and of his underwear and tugs, letting them snap back in place. There’s a damp spot where he’s already leaking precome, darkening the fabric, already so fucking needy for it.

 

“Allison and I were doing make up.” He says, lips twitching like he might be fighting back a smile. “She said I had nice lips.”

 

“Mmm, you do.” Diego agrees, thinking about how desperately he wants those lips stretched around his cock, lipgloss smeared all over Klaus’ face and his own dick. “That’s a shame though.”

 

Klaus’ face falls and he bites his lip, something that Diego has to rectify immediately by tugging it loose from between his teeth. “Do you… not like it?” Klaus asks, sounding terribly insecure.

 

“I love it, baby boy.” Diego hums, sitting back on his heels and bringing his hands to Klaus’ underwear again. With both hands, he rips them until they fall away from Klaus’ body as a tattered piece of fabric. Klaus lets out a moan like it was ripped from him, like he surprised himself with it.

 

“It’s a shame,” Diego clarifies. “Because now I’m going to have to mess it all up again.”

 

And then he kisses Klaus. Klaus opens his mouth straight away and Diego slides his tongue right in, fucking his tongue into Klaus’ mouth until his mouth is open obscenely wide and he’s making tiny, whining noises into Diego’s mouth. It’s wet and messy and filthy, everything Diego loves reducing Klaus to.

 

He barely needs to gets his fingers inside Klaus, the kid is already open from earlier, but he does it anyway just because he loves listening to the sounds he makes. He lets out a gut punched moan when Diego slips two fingers inside him and crooks them just so and his legs tremble around Diego’s body.

 

“You’ve been so good for me, sweetheart, haven’t you?” Diego whispers filthily into his ear, nipping at his earlobe with sharp teeth. Klaus gasps. “Been such a good boy, made me so happy. Laid back and let me fuck this hole whenever I wanted, like the pretty little whore you are. You take it so well now.”

 

Klaus’ hand moves towards his cock but Diego intercepts him before he can touch himself, capturing his wrist and instead leading it towards his own dick through his sweatpants. Klaus doesn’t argue or try to fight his way free, just lets Diego guide his hand under the waist and curls his fingers loosely around Diego’s cock. Because he’s a _good_ _boy_.

 

“That was all me, Klaus.” Diego finger fucks him roughly with each word, forcing more cute little noises out of him with every thrust. “I taught you how to take cock, didn’t I, and now look how well you do it.”

 

“Daddy, _ah_ , wanna be fucked.” Klaus gasps, shuddering and stroking Diego as fast as the awkward angle will allow. With one hand Diego pushes down his trousers and gets his underwear round his thighs, settling himself snuggle between Klaus’ ass with his cock pressed firmly against the boy’s ass.

 

“I know you wanna be fucked, baby boy.” Diego sneers, pulls his fingers out with startling speed and moves Klaus’ hand above his head to join the other one where it’s scrabbling at the headboard. “But what did we talk about? You really gotta work on your manners.”

 

He presses the blunt tip of his cock against Klaus’ hole and he’s so open, so easy, that the head sinks inside at the slightest pressure. It’s the tease of being filled and it drives Klaus wild, makes the blush in his cheeks spread all the way down to his bare chest.

 

“Daddy,” He whispers, eyes closed and tears already catching in his eyelashes. “Please, Daddy, will you fuck me?”

 

Diego doesn’t bother replying, just presses forward until he’s all the way inside Klaus and the kid is split in half on Diego’s cock, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Diego doesn’t give him any time to catch his breath, just fucks him like he needs to be fucked: a constant, hard motion that rocks the bed and sends Klaus further up the bed which the force of each thrust.

 

It doesn’t take long for Diego; Klaus’ face - overwhelmed with pleasure, lipgloss smeared across his cheek and dark eyeliner smudged under his eyes - is enough to get him there easily. Klaus is writhing on the bed beneath him, his cock flushed red at the tip and drooling precome onto his belly. Diego comes inside Klaus and fucks it deeper, keeps it plugged inside him as he fucks the kid through his own orgasm.

 

When he pulls out a trail of come gushes out with him, and Diego gathers it up with two of his fingers. He pushes them inside Klaus, smiling predatorily at the sweet, surprised noise Klaus makes, and listens to the filthy, wet sounds he’s making.

 

“Jesus, look at you.” Diego says sharply, in a tone he knows will capture Klaus’ attention. “Just got fucked and it’s still not enough. What do you say, hmm?”

 

Klaus, who has learned so prettily over the last month just exactly what he should say, whines, “Thank you, Daddy.”

 

Diego smirks and snakes his other hand up over Klaus’ thigh, grinds the heel of his palm into Klaus’ cock at the same time that he twists his fingers against his prostate. Klaus comes with a moan that sounds to be equal parts pain as it is pleasure. He’s a mess, covered in come inside and out with make up all over his face and a dazed, blissful expression. He barely even notices when Diego crawls back up the bed and tugs the covers up and over his shoulders, just hums contentedly and curls up small.

 

Diego just sits for a minute and watches him, stroking his unruly hair. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he wants to ask, but they haven’t talked about _that_ since they arrived and Diego doesn’t see any particular reason to start now.

 

He leaves Klaus dozing on the bed, hair fanning around his head like a crown. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps now, so innocent, his features slack and vulnerable in a way that makes Diego want to crawl on top of him all over again. He has the decency to pull on a pair of boxer shorts before he wanders out of their room, rubbing the back of his neck as he heads to the kitchen for a drink.

 

He’s halfway through filling up a glass of water when he notices Allison behind him, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. She raises an eyebrow when she sees him notice her.

 

“Jesus, Ally.” He says gruffly, switching the tap off and holding the glass in a stiff hand. “Don’t sneak up on people like that. You scared the shit out of me.”

 

Allison doesn’t apologise, she doesn’t even really reply to that, just pushes herself away from the door and walks towards him. Her feet are bare and they pad across the wooden floor almost silently as she moves.

 

“It’s been a month, Diego.” She says, voice low like she’s trying not to wake Klaus up. She doesn’t look angry, just reproachful, and Diego can’t even blame her. “When are you going to leave?”

 

“I didn’t realise we were such an inconvenience, Allison.” Diego replies shortly. “Seemed like you were having fun with Klaus today.”

 

Allison’s eyes flash and Diego immediately takes a sip of water so that he won’t have to reply for a minute, but it doesn’t look like she’s going away any time soon so he sets the water down on the counter with a loud clatter that has Allison’s hands curling into fists.

 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She hisses, stepping closer, and Diego fights back his natural instinct to attack before she can. Her voice softens a little when she sees his pained expression, and when she speaks again she sounds more worried than anything.

 

“I just don’t _get_ it, Diego.” She tells him insistently. “Can’t you just… explain things? They’d have to understand. If this guy was like you said he was, if he was so bad the FBI were looking for him, then they’d have to believe you!”

 

“No, Allison, you don’t get it.” He answers, gritting his teeth, and maybe lying to Allison was not such a good idea but she’d never have let them stay if she knew the truth. “The whole police department there was in on it. _Eudora_ was in on it, and when I found out she tried to kill Klaus. You think I can just make a claim that an entire division are corrupt? It’ll sound like I’m pulling excuses out of my ass and you know it.”

 

“But—” Allison starts, and that’s something Diego has always resented about her, envied about her. She’s naive enough to think that the world’s problems can be solved with a few words or a logical explanation.

 

Diego knows the world doesn’t work like that.

 

“Just drop it, Ally.” He hisses, slapping his hand down onto the counter behind him. Allison jumps, and he can’t really blame her for being scared. Not after what he did last time she saw him get angry. “Hasn’t Klaus been through enough already without you throwing him out? We’ll be out of your hair soon, I promise. We just need to wait until things calm down a bit, okay?”

 

He doesn’t wait for her to reply, even though he knows she’d answer in the affirmative. He’s being cruel and he knows it - after all, Allison has given them a place to stay and promised to lie if any officers come to question her - but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s always felt distant from his family, disconnected, and while they’ve been trying to change that recently Diego doesn’t think much will come of it.

 

Klaus is still asleep when he shuts the bedroom door behind him, so he’s quiet as he peels off his underwear and slips into bed beside Klaus, completely naked. He wants to start mouthing at the back of Klaus’ neck, wake the boy up to fingers inside him and a hand on his cock, but he’s too drained to be what he always wants to be with Klaus.

 

He slings an arm carefully over Klaus’ waist without jostling him, and settles in to sleep.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Klaus is making a fuss again.

 

He does this a lot, Diego has realised, whenever he’s not getting what he wants. He doesn’t know if he’s let the kid become spoiled since they left his home town and if his bratty nature has only crept in recently, or if it’s always just been there and Diego hasn’t noticed it until now. If Klaus has always been a bratty little shit, and his docile, submissive personality before was all just an act.

 

These are the things that Diego thinks about a lot, lately.

 

Even so, he can’t let Klaus get away with mouthing off the him like this. He’s explained the rules over and over again, in great length and detail because Klaus seemed to have trouble accepting those as well, so Diego has no idea why he can’t just get used to them and stop being such a little bitch every time Diego says he’s going to go out.

 

“Just don’t go,” he urges, kneeling on the edge of the bed and tugging on Diego’s arm. “Please, Di, just stay here with me. _Please_ , I don’t wanna be on my own.”

 

“Klaus, drop it.” Diego sighs, pulling out of Klaus’ hold easily. Truthfully he probably could skip one day, stay here with the kid, but he doesn’t want to risk missing something that could potentially be a risk to them. Besides, he needs to get out of here. He throws his jacket on over his shoulders and stuffs his feet into a pair of trainers, all the while ignoring Klaus’ baleful eyes.

 

“Then can I come with you?” He changes tactic, tugs on the hem of his shirt around his thighs. It’s one of the Diego’s – and honestly he has no idea how the boy keeps sneaking them out of the closet without him noticing – but he looks especially gorgeous in Diego’s shirt and nothing else, so he let it slide.

 

“You know the rules, Klaus.” He grunts,hand reaching for the door handle. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Just stay—”

 

And then Klaus interrupts him with a clear, resounding, “ _No_!”

 

Diego stills and exhales slowly. So, okay, Klaus can be bratty. He can be bratty and bitchy and miserable, but thinking he gets to decide what Diego does? That’s where Diego draws the fucking line.

 

“Watch your _fucking_ mouth, Klaus.” Diego doubles back and takes the boy off guard, catching him around the neck and following the momentum. They fall back onto the bed together: Klaus flat on his back with Diego hovering over him, hand around his throat. He hears Klaus’ sharp inhale, can practically feel the way his heart rate spikes with adrenaline, and he smiles cruelly.

 

Klaus breathes, slow and shaky, against Diego’s mouth. When he leans up ever so careful and kisses Diego, Klaus’ bottom lip brushing his top lip, he doesn’t even bother trying to stop; he just moves with it, hands sliding inside Klaus’ t-shirt and up his chest as he slips his tongue inside Klaus’ mouth.

 

So maybe this is Klaus getting exactly what he wanted, but if Diego wants it as well does it count as Klaus getting away with it?

 

Klaus lifts his arms above his head at Diego’s insistence and holds still as the t-shirt is pulled off him, as Diego ties the t-shirt around both of his wrists and then attaches it to the headboard. He sits back on his heels for a second just to admire the picture that Klaus makes: spread out on display like that.

 

Then he ducks down, places a chaste kiss on Klaus’ lips and pulls back. Klaus watches him with baby-wide eyes, the slightest hint of panic flashing behind his eyes as he observes Diego pulling away. He tries to follow Diego upwards but the restraints around his wrists stop him.

 

“Be good,” Diego whispers, trailing a finger over the boy’s cheekbone softly. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

He leaves Klaus whining and closes the bedroom door on him, stopping briefly in the kitchen to say to Allison, “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” She wrinkles her nose up at him, but doesn’t try to stop him when he goes.

 

***

 

“Thank fuck.” Allison sighs as soon as he steps through the door again. There hasn’t been anything about them in the news as far as he could see, but the outing had shaken Diego out of the cabin-fever funk he’d fallen into, and had really helped to clear his head. He thinks about Klaus, tied up in bed, and smiles with satisfaction.

 

“What’s up?” Diego asks, not really bothered by Allison’s dramatic tone. She’s dramatic about a whole load of other things that usually turn out to be nothing. Why should this be any different?

 

“It’s Klaus.” She says flatly. Diego frowns, but before he can open his mouth to reply she jumps in there again. “And before you ask, no, I didn’t go in there. But it was fucking difficult not to, okay? He’s been crying since you left. I tried calling out to him but he didn’t answer; Diego, whatever you’ve done, get in there and fix it.”

 

Diego rolls his eyes; he wants to complain about how Klaus is overreacting and if he didn’t want to get tied up then he shouldn’t have misbehaved like he did, but all he can feel is worry. It’s not often he feels guilt - and is this guilt that he’s feeling now? - but the thought of Klaus helpless and restrained and crying and alone makes his dick harden and his heart pang simultaneously. It’s an interesting sensation, and he crosses the distance between the doorway and his room in a few strides.

 

Klaus looks up from the bed immediately when he hears the door open and close, and as soon as he sees Diego his face crumples. His eyes are damp already, cheeks stained with tear tracks, and the covers are rumpled around his ankles, leaving him completely exposed. He’s gorgeous like this, with his arms stretched upwards and his legs splayed out enticingly.

 

“Diego,” He cries, voice no more than a whisper. Diego falls onto the bed in less than a second, crawls upwards until he’s hovering right over Klaus and presses their lips together. Klaus still sounds like maybe he’s trying to say something but he looks so good, and Diego just wants to touch him everywhere, so he traces the tip of his tongue over Klaus’ top lip teasingly and slides a hand up his side to his rib cage.

 

“Hey there, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He murmurs, voice low and thick with arousal. He can feel Klaus’ breath, breathes it in. “Are you mad at me?” When Klaus only responds with a whimper Diego brings his hand up and tugs at Klaus’ bottom lip with his fingertip.

 

“No,” Eventually Klaus shakes his head and his tongue darts out, tasting Diego’s finger. Diego pulls it away quickly and taps him on the tip of his nose warningly— _you_ _didn’t_ _ask_ _permission_.

 

“Then what’s up?” Diego works his way lower, presses his face into the warm space above Klaus’ shoulder and noses the kid’s neck. He’s warm, smells like sweat and cigarettes and Diego’s body wash; Diego bites the skin there suddenly and grins against his neck when Klaus yelps, sucks a bruise into the tender flesh.

 

“M’scared.” Klaus mumbles back, trying to wrap his ankles around Diego’s legs. His arms are still restrained, so when Diego moves lower and starts playing with the boy’s nipples all he can do is arch off the bed and whine helplessly. Diego smirks, large hands wrapped almost entirely around the sides of his ribs, and starts leaving small, wet kisses over Klaus’ nipple whilst he rubs the other one gently to hardness. He can feel Klaus starting to harden against his stomach, an automatic response to Diego’s touches.

 

Good boy, Diego wants to say. Someday he’ll have Klaus so well trained that he’ll be able to get him hard with just a word.

 

“Scared of what, baby boy?” Diego hums with his mouth half full. Klaus shudders, bites his bottom lip.

 

“Ghosts.” He whispers. Diego freezes.

 

It’s not like he’d forgotten; it would be impossibly hard to forget something like that, obviously. It’s one of the things he thinks about, after he’s done using Klaus for the night: Klaus is a murderer. Klaus is a psychopath. Klaus can hear _ghosts_. It’s just… never come up between them. Not since that first time in the car, ending with Diego’s hand around Klaus’ neck. The few times Diego has tried to instigate a conversation about it Klaus has just deflected or climbed into Diego’s lap.

 

Now though? Klaus is talking about it freely - he even started this conversation - and Diego hasn’t got a goddamn clue how to react to that.

 

“Why are you scared?” Diego asks, hands tightening instinctively around him. He crawls back up so that Klaus can see his face, so that he knows Diego is right there, and drags his hand down the boy’s body. He does feel a little bad about leaving Klaus on his own now - he hadn’t even thought about the ghosts, about how tying him up would mean he couldn’t go find Allison to distract himself with like usual - but he figures the best way to comfort Klaus would be to remain very, very present. If one way to do that is to keep his hands on him at all times, so be it.

 

“They keep… whispering. Bad things, nasty things.” Klaus bites his lip again and lets out the softest, neediest moan when Diego hooks a hand around his thigh and spreads his legs, slides his index finger right inside up to the second knuckle. Klaus is tight again and there’s not enough lube to make the slide easy, but he finds Klaus’ prostate in no time and rubs his fingertip over it back and forth until Klaus’ hips are twitching up off the bed.

 

“What sort of bad things?” Diego wants to know, staring down at Klaus intently as he keeps moving his finger, fucking into Klaus lazily, almost like he’s bored. Like Klaus is a plaything, Diego thinks, that he’s messing with absentmindedly. When Klaus’ eyes flutter shut he uses his other hand to grab his jaw and hold him steady.

 

“Nuh uh,” he hisses right into Klaus’ face. “Eyes on me, baby boy. What sort of things?”

 

When Klaus’ eyes open again they’re damp and brimming with tears, long eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks. “Calling me mean names.” He stutters, keeping his eyes locked on Diego as Diego tries to push another finger inside him. It must hurt because he winces, but, like a good boy, he never takes his eyes off Diego.

 

“Mean names, huh?” Diego repeats, sickly sweet sympathy in his voice. He reaches out for the lube he knows is in the bedside table and urges Klaus’ legs up with his free hand, folding the kid in half; it’s easy, then, to squirt lube over Klaus’ hole and rub it in with the two fingers that had been inside of him a few seconds earlier. Klaus jumps at the sudden coldness but otherwise remains still and quiet, Diego’s docile little boy.

 

“Y–Yeah,” Klaus sniffles, mewling when Diego slides the same two fingers in again, twisting them. He teases the boy by brushing past his prostate on every thrust until Klaus is practically vibrating with pent up frustration, and then he rewards his patience by fucking his fingers, _hard_ , into the spot and holding them there. Klaus’ whole body jerks and he loses control of his legs: they slam down and his heels dig into Diego’s shoulders.

 

“Like— like sissy. Slut. _Whore_.” Klaus sobs, though whether it’s at the ghosts’ words or the cruel pleasure Diego is inflicting upon him, Diego can’t be sure.

 

“Oh, but sweetheart, we’ve talked about this, remember?” Diego asks, getting a third finger in alongside his other two. He drags the pad of his thumb around Klaus’ stretched rim and smiles. “You _are_ a whore. _My_ whore.”

 

“But—” Klaus tries to object, but then Diego is pulling out of him and sitting back on his heels, watching the way Klaus’ empty hole clenches without him. He leans down ever so slightly to place a chaste kiss on it and grins meanly when Klaus whines.

 

“If I untie you, will you do something for me?” Diego asks innocently, holding Klaus’ leg still at the bend of his knee and sucking kisses into his inner thighs. Klaus regards him warily, tear stained face with precome dribbling onto his abdomen, before he nods weakly. He doesn’t even ask what it is. Such a fucking good boy.

 

Diego is quick and efficient about untying Klaus’ wrists, excitement building at his new idea. He had planned on fucking Klaus into the mattress, but seeing Klaus’ lips so swollen and red he wants nothing more than to get his cock between them. He has a toy hidden in a box under the bed that he can fuck Klaus with later to bring him off; if he doesn’t feel like doing that after he’s come then he can just leave Klaus hard and empty and wanting. Maybe plug him up, tie him up and go to sleep with him like that. It would make it nice and easy for Diego to fuck him in the morning: he wouldn’t even have to prep him. Klaus would be the perfect little fucktoy that Diego is always calling him.

 

“I want you to do a very grown up thing, okay?” He mocks, choosing to ignore the dirty look Klaus gives him for this. He can tell Klaus wants to remind him of exactly how _grown_ _up_ he is, but doesn’t want to risk being tied up again. “I’m going to put my cock in your mouth. I want you to do your best, okay?”

 

Klaus’ face goes slack with shock and his eyes widen; he watches as Diego unzips his jeans and shucks them off around his ankles, flinging his boxers in the same direction so that he’s completely naked from the waist down.

 

“Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” Diego asks.

 

“I— I don’t know…” He trails off. He’s scared, that much is obvious, and whilst Diego thinks a certain amount of fear for him is a good thing he doesn’t really want Klaus to bite his dick off. He wants Klaus to want to suck his dick as much as he wants Diego to fuck him.

 

“I’ll show you.” Diego tells him soothingly, using one hand to guide the tip of his cock to Klaus’ wet lips and the other to tug his mouth open wide enough. He doesn’t bother asking if Klaus is ready; instead he just presses forward painfully slow and steady until he’s as far as he can go without Klaus gagging.

 

Klaus’ mouth is fucking heavenly. Diego has had blowjobs from blowjob pros, he’s been sucked off by people who do that shit for a living, and this is still the best thing he’s ever felt, kneeling still and patient with half of his dick resting heavy on Klaus’ tongue. His mouth is so wet and warm, fits so well like it was made to be around Diego’s cock, that it almost brings tears to his eyes.

 

“Fuck, yeah.” Diego sighs in satisfaction, struggles not to push all the way into Klaus’ pliant mouth. When he manages to flutter his eyes open and look down at Klaus, the boy is already looking up at him, eyes wide and watery. He looks confused but trusting, like he trusts Diego to tell him what to do just like he promised.

 

“Okay, sweetheart.” Diego trails his hand over Klaus’ hollowed cheek. “Try moving your tongue a little, okay? Give me your hand.” Klaus reaches out unsteadily and Diego manages to capture the kid’s hand in his, guiding it to the half of his cock that isn’t in his mouth. “Slowly, just like that. _Fuck_ , yeah. You’re doing good, Klaus.”

 

Klaus preens, dragging his tongue heavy and messy over the head of Diego’s cock and stroking him as eagerly as he can. Diego wants nothing more than to just hold Klaus still by his hair and fuck his face, chase his own orgasm and come down the boy’s throat.

 

“Think you can take a bit more, huh?” Diego says through gritted teeth. He weaves his fingers through Klaus’ curls and, bit by bit, eases the kid down onto his cock. Klaus’ lips stretch beautifully around it, just like Diego knew they would, and it feels like he’s been hit with a freight train of pleasure all of a sudden. He’s so close, teetering right on the edge; it’s just… not _enough_.

 

“C’mon, baby boy.” Diego urges, brushing forward the tiniest amount so that the tip of his cock brushes the back of Klaus’ throat. Klaus gags and drool drips from the seams of his mouth down his chin. Diego pets his hair, a silent apology, and bites back a groan as Klaus sucks enthusiastically. He’s so easy, so eager to please, so fucking wet at any praise Diego is willing to give him.

 

“Gonna come,” he breathes on his next exhale, holding Klaus steady. “Just like that, baby, gonna make me come. Gonna be a good boy and swallow?”

 

Klaus moans around the Diego’s dick in his mouth, a clear attempt at saying yes if Diego has ever heard one, and that’s it: he’s gone. He comes in Klaus’ mouth, and when he comes back to himself minutes later it’s to find himself thrusting shallowly into the boy’s mouth, come smeared across Klaus’ cheek and chin, come and spit connecting Klaus’ lips with the tip of Diego’s cock. The boy looks ruined, his face messy and his dick hard, curving up over his abdomen and leaking precome.

 

Diego, as sated as he feels right now, has never been able to deny Klaus.

 

“Good boy,” he murmurs, pulling out and shuffling further down Klaus’ body until he can kiss the come from the boy’s lips and whisper straight into his mouth. “You did so well, baby. You were so good for me.”

 

It feels natural somehow for him to slot his leg between Klaus’, feel the boy’s dick pressing hard and hot and insistent against his bare thigh. “You’re really desperate, huh?” He grins, kissing a path from the tip of Klaus’ nose to the spot just behind his ear and leaving a trail of wet marks in his wake.

 

“Uh huh,” Klaus sniffles, wrapping his legs around the backs of Diego’s calves and rutting against him. When Diego doesn’t immediately stop him he must decide it’s okay for him to continue, because he lets out a relieved sigh and thrusts harder, faster.

 

“How much more of my time are you going to take, Klaus?” Diego taunts, pressing his thigh a little harder against Klaus’ cock, grinds down firmly into him and feels the way Klaus’ hips stutter, even though he said he wasn’t going to give the boy any help. It’s addictive, the way he’s so fucking responsive: Diego could breathe on him right now and he’d probably cry.

 

“Please,” Klaus breathes, breath damp and desperate into the juncture of Diego’s neck.

 

“Please, what?” Diego asks.

 

“I wanna _come_.” Klaus cries out, all frustrated and near-tears, trying to rub off against Diego’s leg like he isn’t tied to the bed, like he’s the one in charge. Diego, with one hand propping him up against the mattress, reaches up to cup Klaus’ cheek: he really is beautiful, with flushed cheeks and red lips and breathtaking green eyes.

 

He comes when Diego kisses him, soft and sweet and uncharacteristically gentle, smearing it stickily between their bodies. His body goes lax and, when Diego unites the fabric from around Klaus’ tender wrists, he barely reacts. Diego wonders what he can hear, who is whispering in his ear right now and what they’re saying.

 

It’s a horrible feeling: powerlessness. Helplessness. Complete inability to protect Klaus from the things only he can hear but, more than that, complete ignorance to whether it’s even Klaus thatneeds protecting.

 

All Diego can do is rub the red circles around the boy’s wrists until he nuzzles closer, presses his face into Diego’s chest, and falls asleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot is coming soon I promise <3


	3. Chapter 3

Diego wakes to an empty bed. The covers are tangled around his legs in a sweaty mess and the spot next to him where Klaus should be is empty, still warm. Diego blinks sleep out of his eyes and props himself up on an elbow, taking a sip of the cool glass of water next to him. There’s an ache only just starting up at the back of his skull and he wants nothing more than to fall back into bed and sleep, but with Klaus no longer tucked under his arm he feels restless and jittery.

 

Sighing, he swings his legs over the side of his bed. He tugs on the first pair of boxers he can find - god, if Klaus just left for a late night snack or something equally mundane he’s going to be so pissed - and ventures out of his room.

 

It’s dark in the rest of the apartment, the only light in the room a soft orange glow from the streetlamps outside. There’s the distant sound of car horns blaring and dogs barking, city nightlife seeming unfamiliar to Diego since he got used to Klaus’ hometown, but there’s still no signs of life in here. He tries the kitchen, popping his head round the door to the living room, but nothing.

 

“Klaus?” Diego hisses, panic cresting steadily. He spins around on the spot, hands clenching at his sides. At first there’s no reply, just the ticking of the fancy, old fashioned clock Allison loves so much that drives Diego crazy. Then he hears something; it’s barely a noise, so faint, that if Diego had moved at that second he’d probably have missed it, but it sounds like a freak of a floorboard. Diego freezes, waits for it to happen again.

 

It’s coming from Allison’s bedroom. When he creeps further down the hall, he sees her door is half open, a stream of light spilling out onto the floor from a slit in the door.

 

“Klaus?” Diego says slowly, slipping inside between the door and wall with ease thanks to his years of training. The kid is standing next to Allison’s bed, the lamp on the bedside table on its dimmest setting, and he has Allison’s phone in her hand. When he sees Diego he stalls, eyes going wide with something that might be fear but could just as easily be anger, and it scares Diego that he can’t tell which is which. Klaus lowers the phone down to desk.

 

“What the fuck?” Diego hisses lowly, what had previously been panic dissipating and turning to anger in seconds. “What are you doing?”

 

If he weren’t at risk of waking Allison up he’d storm over there, grip Klaus by the back of the neck and shake him until he cries, until he explains what the fuck he was doing. As it is, all he can do is grab the boy’s wrist with an iron grip and drag him out of the room, closing the door behind them with a soft click and praying Allison doesn’t wake up.

 

It’s not until later he realises he’s left the light on, but it’s too late to go back and turn it off.

 

“What the hell were you doing, huh?” Once they’re away from Allison’s room and in the living room Diego feels safe enough to raise his voice a little, grab him by the shoulders and dig his fingernails into the boy’s bare skin. Diego is still only dressed in a pair of boxers but Klaus is wearing an oversized pair of tracksuit shorts, naked from the waist up. It’s been a while since Diego has seen him naked with no imminent intention to fuck him, and whilst Klaus still takes his breath away he can also see how skinny he is, how his ribs are easily visible under his skin.

 

“Did you call anyone?” He demands, one hand flying up to grab Klaus’ face, fingers digging harshly into the hollow of his cheeks. “What did you do? Hey, fucking _look_ at me, did you call anyone?”

 

“No!” Klaus cries, voice so loud that it cuts through the silence. Diego winces. “I promise, please, I didn’t!”

 

“Then what were you going to do?” Diego spits, using his other hand to wrap around Klaus’ neck and walk him backwards until he’s pressed up against the wall, caged in by Diego’s body. He’s breathing heavily, skinny chest heaving, but his pupils are blown wide with arousal and Diego thinks it won’t be too long before he’ll be tenting his fucking shorts.

 

“Were you gonna call the cops, huh? Tell them you murdered a bunch of people? What was your wise idea, huh baby?” Diego is being especially mean right now, especially condescending, talking to Klaus in the way that he reserves for the worst of punishments. He’s angry, so fucking angry, because he’s been so goddamn careful about keeping Klaus safe and _inside_ , and the ungrateful little slut was about to blow it all up in his face.

 

“I just wanted to call my parents!” Klaus sobs, one hand sliding up Diego’s bare chest and over his nipple in what might be a clumsy attempt at seduction. “I miss them! I wanna talk to my parents!”

 

“Well maybe if you hadn’t _murdered_ _people_ —” Diego spits, and then a noise to his right makes him freeze in horror.

 

He turns slowly, a prickling feeling of deja vu in the back of his head - another shock, another feeling of fear and anger and helplessness - to see Allison standing ramrod straight in the doorway. Her hair is scraped back into a loose ponytail and she looks different out of makeup: softer, more vulnerable.

 

“Allison,” Diego starts, no clue what he’s about to say, but she’s not looking at him. She’s looking at Klaus, and she looks horrified.

 

“What the hell?” She whispers, an arm creeping up to wrap around own waist protectively. “Diego, tell me that’s not true.”

 

Klaus is unmoving, body still pinned powerlessly to the wall but his neck twisted to face Allison. It only takes one look at his face - big, watery eyes and a trembling bottom lip - to know that Allison is the last person he wanted to find out the truth. Diego backs away from him carefully, because right now it looks like he’s hurting the kid and she already looks angry enough: he doesn’t want Allison to get the wrong impression.

 

Or the right impression. Or any impression at all. He wishes he’d had enough fucking foresight to keep his big mouth shut.

 

“Just wait,” He says, which in hindsight is the worst possible thing he could say, but he’s not thinking straight right now and sue him if he wants to buy them some time.

 

“You told me he was innocent.” Allison screams, taking both of them by surprise with how betrayed she sounds. Diego hadn’t thought of it like that. “You told me the precinct was corrupt. You _lied_ to me— I can’t believe you brought this shit into my home! What if the police had come, huh? Would you have just let them take me as well, because of your fucked up relationship? I can’t believe you let me be his friend!”

 

That last one gets to Klaus, Diego can tell, because he lets out an almost inaudible whimper and shrinks in on himself, into Diego. It makes sense: Allison is the one other person in Klaus’ entire life, maybe, who was actually nice to him without having an ulterior motive. He’s watching all of that crash and burn in front of his eyes.

 

This could end badly.

 

“Allison,” Klaus tries suddenly, weak and tearful. He reaches out an arm as though he’s trying to touch her, tug on her sleeve to make her pay attention to him but Diego can already tell what a bad idea that would be. He gets there first and holds Klaus’ fist in his. “I can explain. Please, just let me—”

 

Diego is just about to jump in with a ‘no you fucking don’t’ when Allison beats him to it. Even like this - caught by surprise in the middle of the night, bare faced, dressed in pyjamas with suspiciously red eyes - she still manages to be Diego’s most elegant sibling. When she straightens her back, sets her jaw and crosses her arms over her chest, Diego knows Klaus isn’t going to like whatever will come out of her mouth next.

 

“You need to leave.” She says flatly, and Diego can’t even say he’s surprised. “Both of you. Pack your stuff and get out of my house.”

 

“Allison!” Klaus cries, tears slipping down his cheeks easily now. Diego thinks it’s genuine and not just an act to get Allison to pity him, but he always thought it was genuine with him too and look how that turned out.

 

“No,” Allison bites sharply. “I’m not going to call the police because you’re my brother, Diego, and I’d like to think you’d offer me the same courtesy if I fucked up as bad as you have. But you need to leave - you _both_ need to leave - tonight.”

 

“Don’t do this,” Diego says quietly, and it’s as much a threat as it is a plea. He always had more power over the rest of his siblings, excluding maybe Luther, and that has come in handy for him a lot over these past few years. But now, looking at Klaus’ trembling form, he realises that he wouldn’t care about power. He wouldn’t even care about begging. There is not a single thing he wouldn’t do to keep his boy safe and all to himself, and he thinks they all know it.

 

But Allison doesn’t budge. If anything, she gets angrier.

 

“I want to say I can’t believe you’d put me in danger like this, Diego, but I can’t even say that.” She sneers bitter and cruel to mask the hurt plain on her face. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Ally.” Diego hisses, taking a daunting step forward. Klaus cringes behind him, hurrying backwards. “Seriously, careful what you say.”

 

“What?” She spits back, fighting just as dirty as Diego. “It’s not like he’d care, right? Not if he’s a murderer. God, the more I think about it the more perfect I realise you two are for each other. I know it. _Ben_ knew it, and look what happened to him!”

 

“Shut _up_!” Diego yells, voice cracking at the end, and it takes him a moment too long to realise the screaming he can hear is not coming from inside his own head. He turns, heart stopping in his chest.

 

It’s Klaus, and he’s glowing bright blue. It feels like it happens in slow motion, but maybe that’s just because Diego is already so worked up; so angry and scared and hurt and trapped in a nostalgic time loop of the past, playing their last moments at the academy over and over again. Klaus raises his arm and this time there’s no Diego to stop him: he can only watch as the kid brings his arm down with a slashing movement that cuts through the air sharp and brittle. The blue disappears like a bubble being popped at the same time that all the colour drains from his face, and he sinks to the floor slowly.

 

Diego wants desperately to run over to him and catch him like he couldn’t last time but he’s stuck to the spot in the face of Klaus’ power. He remembers thinking to himself, what feels like an eternity ago, that through all the horrors he’s seen in the course of his job Klaus was the most intriguing.

 

That sure aged well.

 

Then Klaus is groaning in what’s either pain or exertion, grunting as he pushes himself to his elbows and rubbing his eyes with a tiny fist. When his eyes settle somewhere over Diego’s shoulder he’s jolted back to reality: the reality in which he’s stood in his sister’s living room, the boy he’s in love with having just revealed his impossible, supernatural power in the worst possible way.

 

Allison has fallen eerily silent ever since Klaus started glowing, and whilst that isn’t really surprising it is worrying. He meets Klaus’ stare for all of a second before he’s following the kid’s gaze and glancing over his shoulder, ready to give Allison some excuse to salvage the situation.

 

Except he can’t, he soon realises, because Allison is choking on her own blood with a confused expression and a slit throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to another instalment of ‘I shamelessly steal plot points from the show and run with them’
> 
> <3


	4. Chapter 4

Diego doesn’t feel out of control very often. Even growing up where he did, with the people he did, he still always felt like he had some semblance of power over his siblings. Reginald was difficult to grow up with and no doubt his methods of discipline would be frowned upon by a jury but Diego always felt somewhat in control with him as well; maybe it was to do with the fact that the man adopted six children well into his fifties and tried to rule them all with an iron fist. It was sad as well as terrifying as a child - six, ten, fourteen, seventeen, moved out and still never forgot the way Reginald looked with a belt in his hand - that the man needed to control something in his life so badly that he collected children like animals and owned them like slaves.

 

He couldn’t say if the others felt the same way. Luther idolised Reginald, looked up to him as the paradigm of masculinity, until the day he died and for a while even after that. Vanya and Five were more difficult to read: with Vanya out of the picture for most of the time, hidden away in her room or staying after school to study, she never really bore the brunt of their father’s affection in the same way that Diego and the others did. Five came later, and whilst that should mean he suffered less it really only meant that their father had more time to dedicate to his personal training. Diego shudders to think what life is like for him now, living it up with Luther of all people in the same mansion their father died in, but it must be better than before.

 

Ben didn’t live long enough to feel in control of anything. He was always alone, really, always helpless: a scared, sad sort of kid. Lonely and bored, he would stay inside for as long as he was allowed and watch the others from the window. He was cute and baby faced, made everyone cry when he died, but he was never the hardened leader that Hargreeves wanted them all to be and he suffered more for that in life than he ever could in death.

 

Diego never really knew Allison that well. Growing up she was always the epitome of everything he hated about himself: vain, wanting of attention, willing to put others down to get out on top herself. She’s grown up a lot since then - they both have, they _all_ have - but when he looks at her he still sees the same little girl that would boss them all around in a bright pink feather boa and baby high heels.

 

Which is why, when Diego turns and sees his sister with blood soaking through the fabric of her top, he can’t quite believe it. Her eyes are wide and her mouth hangs open, the slit in her neck visible only thanks to the fucking waterfall of blood it lets out; her hands cut through the air and her shoulders curl in on themselves as she traces her neck with her fingertips, a bird with two broken wings.

 

Then she collapses to her knees, bones knocking painfully against the floor, and falls to her side. She’s still choking, still _dying_ , and Diego can’t move. He’s been here before.

 

“Diego,” Klaus whimpers, jolting Diego back into the real world, and then he can move. When he inhales it’s sharp and desperate, and when he falls to his knees beside Allison he feels very much out of control, like a little kid trying to convince themselves that what they’re seeing isn’t real. He turns her round flat onto her back and looks down at her face, frozen in fear, mouth gaping with no sound coming out.

 

“Allison?” He says, voice breaking on the first syllable. Then, louder, “Allison? Fuck, _fuck_ , Ally! Come on, just— breathe, okay? You’re fine, you’re gonna be fine.”

 

He brings his hand up to her neck, encircling it and trying to put pressure on the wound so that it’ll maybe stop the bleeding, but his hands come away soaked red and he recoils back like he can somehow escape it. Allison is dying right in front of him and he can’t do anything about it except panic; he’s not crying, because Diego Hargreeves doesn’t cry, but it feels like something inside him is breaking all the same.

 

“Klaus,” He says, taking a breath and letting it go. Right now he needs to be strong. He needs to be in charge even if he’s not in control, for both of these people who he thinks he loves as much as he’s capable of, and that doesn’t involve having a panic attack on the blood covered floor of your sister’s apartment.

 

Klaus looks up immediately, too shocked to be full on sobbing but still with a few stray tears and damp eyes. He looks scared, like he did all those days ago in Diego’s car, like he did when he sat outside his own house and waited for Diego to pick him up, like he did outside the school with a bloody nose and a murderer’s arm around his shoulders. Diego hopes it’s real. He hopes it’s all been real, even the bad parts.

 

“Go and get Allison’s phone.” When Klaus remains motionless, eyes flitting between Diego and Allison as though he’s afraid to so much as move, Diego turns to him. “ _Now_!”

 

He moves, scrambling to his feet and slipping slightly in a spot of blood that has pooled around them. To his credit he moves faster than Diego could have managed, in and out of Allison’s bedroom with the phone in his hand and returning to kneel next to Diego on the floor in seconds. He’s panting, though whether that’s from the activity or just plain fear Diego can’t tell.

 

“Call an ambulance.” Diego instructs, still only able to stare down at Allison helplessly, and then almost instantly changes his mind. “No, fuck, wait. I’ve got to do it— give me the phone.”

 

He can’t say why exactly he has to be the one to make the call. Part of him wants to justify it, wave it away by saying that if the cops do find them it’ll look better if Diego had been the one to call for help. Why try and kill his sister if only to call an ambulance right away? But it’s not that and he knows it. That wouldn’t help his defence any more than explaining very politely that Klaus gets possessed by ghosts.

 

No, the real reason, the one that he pushes deep down inside himself and tries not to think about, is that he doesn’t trust Klaus with something so important. Even though the kid is right next to him, even though he’d logically be able to hear everything that was said, he still wants to do it himself.

 

Klaus hands him the phone without an argument and he dials, waiting with laboured breath for an answer. It’s easy to call for an ambulance - he’s had to do it plenty of times before, granted never as a civilian - and he knows exactly what to say to minimise time wasted. They’re in the middle of the city here which means paramedics will be arriving in maximum ten minutes.

 

It also means they have ten minutes to erase every trace of them ever having been here and get the fuck out of Allison’s apartment. Even if they recognise his voice or put two and two together, leaving now will still give them a head start and a chance to get out of the city.

 

“Allison,” He whispers, hunching over her and kissing her forehead just lightly. “I’m so sorry.”

 

Then he leaves.

 

***

 

Five is already waiting for them by the time Diego’s car pulls up outside the mansion, leaning against the front doorframe with his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face. He’s glad it isn’t Luther, but then Luther probably wouldn’t be smart enough to set an alert with the security cameras on the ground any time a car pulls up.

 

He has to practically pull Klaus out of the car: the boy is so caught up in staring at the mansion in disbelief. Diego knows the ornate wooden door and the general grandeur of the place are impressive at first, but having grown up there the architecture has sort of lost any chance of power over Diego. They only need to wait until they’re inside— Klaus will freak out he’s sure.

 

“Luther isn’t here.” Is the first thing Five says to them, and that’s sort of a relief. Diego bundles Klaus inside quickly so there’s no chance of him being spotted and slinks in after them, only tugging down Klaus’ hood when the door is safely closed. “How long will you be staying?”

 

“Why isn’t Luther here?” Diego asks, ignoring Five’s other question completely and hoping he doesn’t get called out on it. The truth is he doesn’t know himself, and he doesn’t like to not know things in front of his siblings. Klaus, wisely, remains silent.

 

“He got a call.” Five shrugs, uninterested. “It sounded urgent. He left a few hours ago.”

 

Diego winces. He doesn’t need three guesses to figure out what that call might have been about.

 

“Listen, Five,” Diego starts. “If anyone comes looking, or if anyone calls—”

 

“You’re not here.” Five finishes, shrugging. “Fine, whatever. But I’m not giving him the tour. You can find your own bedroom.” He jerks his head in Klaus’ direction. Diego looks over to Klaus - flushing a pretty pink colour at Five’s less than friendly greeting - and when he looks back his brother has disappeared entirely.

 

“C’mon then.” Diego takes Klaus by the hand and leads him to the third floor, towards the guest bedrooms; there’s no way he’s stepping foot in his childhood bedroom again, definitely not sleeping there, much less with Klaus.

 

“Diego,” Klaus murmurs as soon as the door has closed behind them. He’s tired, Diego can tell, but he’s also worked up. He has something to say and he’s not going to stop until he gets to say it, until Diego hears it.

 

“What?” Diego grunts, feigning indifference. He’s not entirely sure he knows how to act around Klaus nods; in the past apathy would have been the very last thing he felt towards Klaus, and it still is. But Klaus worries Diego now, and he can’t ever find out that he worries him or who knows what could happen. Indifference is the best way to go until Diego figures out what the fuck he needs to do.

 

“I’m sorry,” Klaus had said this a thousand times over on the journey up here, but he still sounds just as remorseful as the first. Diego believes him. “I’m so sorry. I— I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t know how to control it and she just kept yelling at you and I wanted her to stop.”

 

And this confirms what Diego already knew but didn’t want to believe: that this wasn’t some random possession. This wasn’t someone controlling Klaus’ body, his powers. This was Klaus himself, lashing out deliberately at the people he knows just because he doesn’t know his own strength yet. That’s scarier than any ghost could be.

 

Diego shrugs. Klaus doesn’t like being brushed aside, evidently, because he makes a small sound of frustration in the back of his throat and follows Diego to the bed, climbing into his lap so that he’s sat with a knee on the bed on either side of Diego’s hips.

 

“I know it was wrong, Diego, but I was trying to protect you! You heard what she said. She was a— a threat. We couldn’t trust her, Diego. I am sorry though, I never meant to hurt her like that. She’ll be okay, right? Diego?”

 

“Fuck!” Diego cries, raising his voice for the first time since it happened. It feels like he’s snapped, like all his emotions have come rushing out and the faked apathy towards Klaus is disappearing in front of his eyes. He can’t keep up the charade any more than Klaus can. “Shut up, okay? Just _shut_ _up_!”

 

He grips Klaus by the shoulders, fingernails digging in harshly through the fabric and pushes them backwards in one fluid motion so that Diego is flat against the bed and Klaus is sitting in his lap on top of him. He blinks, confused at the sudden change in position, but otherwise doesn’t react. Baby boy knows his place is wherever Diego puts him, it would seem, even after everything.

 

“Stop fucking talking.” Diego spits, wrestling with Klaus’ underwear and getting his hand under the boy’s skirt. His fingers find Klaus’ hole, tight muscle that clenches instinctively when Diego brushes the pad of his finger over it again and again. He’s too tight to be taken without preparation tonight and Diego cannot be fucked to get out of bed and find lube.he withdraws his fingers and holds them up in front of Klaus.

 

“Spit,” He instructs bluntly. “It’s all you’re gonna get.”

 

Klaus, who still has puffy eyes and tear tracks dried on his cheeks, spits. It’s sort of pathetic and he has saliva dribbling down his chin, adding to the mess on his face, but most of it lands on Diego’s fingers and it’s enough for him to work two of them inside Klaus straight away, right up to the second knuckle. Klaus gasps and sits back on Diego’s fingers inside him automatically.

 

“Daddy,” he breathes, the softest flutter of a voice. Diego crooks his fingers and, even though Klaus is fucking himself on Diego’s fingers himself, the boy lets out a whorish moan like he powerless to stop it. It doesn’t make any sense really; after the day Diego just had he should want to be totally in control. In reality though? He wants nothing more than to lie back and have Klaus ride him.

 

When Diego slides a third finger inside him he shudders, throws his head back and swallows with his eyes screwed shut. Diego watches the movement of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, the long column of his pale throat only marred by Diego’s marks. It’s wonderful, this position: he literally has the kid’s whole body bouncing on his fingers like a fucking puppet. Maybe he is in control, after all.

 

It’s a strange angle but Diego manages to get his fingers out without giving himself cramp and puts a hand on each of Klaus’ knees, forcing his legs to spread further apart. He sinks lower so that Klaus’ chest is resting on one of Diego’s jean clad thighs. It doesn’t take long for Diego to unzip his trousers and push his boxers far enough down his legs to get his dick out— Klaus tries to do it first but Diego stops him with a firm hand around his neck, holds him steady in place inches from his cock.

 

“Spit,” He says again, nodding pointedly when Klaus looks up at him surprised. The boy inhales shakily and spits again; Diego feels it, warm and wet and utterly fucking gross but also one of the hottest things he’s ever experienced. He strokes himself once, twice, and then lies back. Klaus isn’t dumb, he knows exactly what Diego wants him to do, but he still hesitates.

 

“Diego,” He says quietly, shyly. “I’m—”

 

“Sorry.” Diego interrupts, serious for once. He wants nothing more than find out that Allison will be fine and then forget the whole thing. “I know.”

 

With a firm guide on Klaus’ hips he urges the boy down, holds his cock steady with one hand until the boy is sinking down onto it, all the way. Klaus lets out a high pitched, slutty whimper and bites his bottom lip; Diego supposes taking it up the ass must feel a lot different sitting up than lying down.

 

Diego almost closes his eyes, but he doesn’t want to miss the sight of Klaus trying desperately to move, thighs burning under the strain of riding Diego’s cock. Diego knows he should teach the kid, train Klaus in all the ways he likes it just like he did for Klaus sucking cock, but he’s too tired and a little, vindictive part of him wants Klaus to make things up to him on his own.

 

Klaus is hard under the skirt, Diego can tell, but he’s using both his hands to balance on Diego!s shins, picking himself up and letting himself fall back, the tip of Diego’s cock brushing against his prostate every time until he’s letting out gut punched ‘ah, ah, ah’ noises. By the time the tears start for real - because they always come out one way or another - he’s too exhausted to use his legs anymore. Instead he just sits back and grinds himself down on Diego’s cock, biting back muffled groans and jerking forward every now and then, rubbing the wet head of his dick over the smooth, soft fabric of his skirt.

 

“Daddy,” He gasps, a hand skirting up his own chest, up to his own face to push his hair out of the way. “Please.” He tries to surreptitiously wipe tears away with the back of his hand but Diego captures his wrist and holds him still, enjoying the way his bottom lip trembles.

 

“Fuck, baby boy.” Diego lets out a long suffering sigh, like he’s really doing the kid a favour, before he fucks his hips up sharply without warning. Klaus keens, legs shakily around Diego’s hips. It’s easy for Diego to push himself upwards and lean back against the headboard, Klaus still sitting on his cock, and start making tiny, aborted thrusts into him. He drops his head to Klaus’ chest and nips at the skin there, sucks Klaus’ nipple into his mouth and listens to the breathless sound of the boy crying.

 

“Daddy,” Klaus pleads again, hand settled over Diego’s shoulder. “Gonna come—”

 

Diego reaches a fumbling hand under Klaus’ skirt, and at the first moment of the backs of his fingers brushing the underside of Klaus’ cock he’s coming, spurting wet and sticky all over his clothes and the back of Diego’s hand.

 

Diego isn’t far off coming himself, but with the way Klaus collapses against him completely spent after his own orgasm he knows he isn’t going to get there like this. It takes a bit off effort to roll them over so that Klaus is on his back with Diego in between his legs, but once he’s there he gets one hand under each of Klaus’ knees and lifts his legs up, bending the kid practically in half. Klaus moves like a rag doll with the force of Diego’s thrusts, only having the energy to mewl softly.

 

“Look at you, little slut.” He grunts, fucking into Klaus in a more aggressive version of military style. He’s being mean and Klaus winces at his words, but he feels like in the circumstances he’s entitled to be a little mean.

 

“You’d take it any way you could fucking get it, wouldn’t you? Always take it so well, like you were made for this.” He can feel his own orgasm approaching. His hand slips from the back of Klaus’ knee and the boy’s leg falls, heel digging into Diego’s shoulder as though even now he’s urging him to go faster. Diego can only oblige.

 

“Say it,” he demands. “ _Fuck_ , say it sweetheart.”

 

In a quiet, tearful voice, Klaus breathes, “ _Daddy_ ,” and Diego comes like his orgasm has been ripped from him, fucking Klaus through it and feeling his own come drip from the boy’s hole. Part of him wants to stay like this for as long as he can, keeping it all plugged up inside Klaus like the good little cockslut he is, but he can’t stay there forever. Eventually he has to pull out and roll onto his back with an exhausted sigh.

 

Klaus winces slightly as he lets his legs down, curling into Diego’s warm body, and Diego smiles. The boy is definitely going to have some trouble walking tomorrow, and it’s just a shame that the only people around to see Diego’s claim on Klaus will be his brothers.

 

And that’s a thought. Luther will no doubt be back by tomorrow, if only for fresh clothes or a shower. If Allison is alive she’ll have no doubt told Luther about what happened and if he then sees them there, it isn’t going to be pretty. But if she isn’t alive… Diego doesn’t even want to think about that.

 

He sighs again. This bed is undoubtedly nicer than the one in Allison’s apartment and he has Klaus curled up sleeping soundly against him, but Diego still can’t get to sleep. He lies for a long time, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about all the times he’s seriously fucked up in his life, wondering if any of them can compare to this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If like me you have an unhealthy obsession with dark diego I’m writing another one [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981160/chapters/45070339) if you want to check it out! <3


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Diego wakes before Klaus, and he goes down to the kitchen. He still remembers this house like the back of his hand of course and he’s not at all surprised to find that Luther stocks it with the exact same things that Dad did - although he does find a hidden stash of peanut butter that must belong to Five - so he ends up putting bread in the toaster and making some black coffee. Klaus doesn’t drink it, but Diego is going to have a hard time getting the kid to eat breakfast let alone getting through the rest of the day, so he figures he deserves it.

 

“Is that for him?” Five appears from nowhere, peering over Diego’s shoulder at the mug in his hand. He hops up onto the counter and raises an eyebrow expectantly. Diego sighs and hands it to him, even though he’s not so sure his little brother, genius that he is, should be consuming so much caffeine.

 

“Does Luther let you drink coffee?” He taunts, knowing it’ll piss Five off. True enough, his brother shoots him a dirty look and aims a kick to Diego’s side, sipping his coffee with a haughty expression.

 

“You don’t get to judge me when you’re dicking down a teenager in Dad’s guest bedroom.” He snaps back, watching as Diego throws the toast down onto a plate and crowds everything onto a tray to take up to Klaus. It’s a little burnt, but Diego doesn’t want to stay downstairs long enough to have another try. 

 

“Wash your mouth out, Five.” Diego smirks, but it feels fake on his face, a mask he has to paint on. “Luther would have a fit.”

 

“Speaking of,” Five’s voice quickly becomes more serious, more severe, and Diego can tell he’s not going to like whatever comes next. “He called. Just now, actually. Allison’s alive, in case you were wondering.”

 

Diego blinks. Five doesn’t sound surprised or worried - or particularly bothered - by this revelation, and he’s watching Diego intently like he already knows too much, like he’s looking for a reaction. Diego swallows and carefully turns to him, leaning against the counter and narrowing his eyes.

 

“What do you mean? Why was she—”

 

“Knock it off, Diego.” Five rolls his eyes. “I know what your boyfriend did, alright? I mean, I don’t know what he did, but I know that he did something. Why else would you show up in the middle of the night randomly at the same time that Allison goes into hospital?”

 

“Five—”

 

“I think he might actually murder you this time, just so you know.” He puts his empty mug on Diego’s tray, and Diego sighs. He turns to leave, but before he gets the chance Five’s hand lands on Diego’s arm. “Listen, I don’t know what you did or what your _boyfriend_ did, but I meant what I said last time I saw you. I hope you know what you’re getting into with him.”

 

Diego shakes Five’s hand off him and stalks upstairs without replying, but he’s really beginning to think he doesn’t know what he’s got himself into with Klaus.

 

This thought only gets worse when he gets closer to their bedroom and hears Klaus talking to himself. The door is still shut from when Diego left earlier on and there’s no one else in the house but Diego and Five, so that means whoever Klaus is talking to, they certainly aren’t someone Diego would be able to see.

 

“Why would I do that?” Klaus asks, sounding more bitter and dismissive than genuinely curious. It isn’t a tone Diego has heard Klaus take before - never with him, of course, and it’s not like he ever hung out with anyone else - but then maybe Diego doesn’t know Klaus as well as he thought he did. There’s a pause, like Klaus is waiting for whoever it is to reply, and then there’s a scoff.

 

“He’d kill me.” Diego pricks up with interest, wondering how likely it is that this ‘he’ Klaus is talking about is actually him. Very likely, he decides.

 

Then there’s a sigh, and this Diego has heard before. In the car, driving away from a crime scene, with Klaus telling him the truth for once. He sounds lost. He sounds hopeless.

 

“I know he does,” he says finally, cryptically. “I love him too. But he’d still kill me.”

 

Diego is just about to barge in and demand to know what the fuck Klaus is talking about exactly, but then there’s a thundering noise from behind him and he turns just in time to see Luther lumbering his way down the corridor. Diego would laugh at the sight if he didn’t remember Five’s earlier words: I think he might actually murder you this time.

 

“Luther—” Diego starts. The noise from Klaus’ room cuts off short as he must realise he’s not alone. Luther doesn’t pay either of them any mind, just gets all up close and personal in Diego’s face, slapping the tray out of Diego’s hands so that everything clatters to the floor in a cacophony of smashing glass. Coffee spills over the floor and Diego’s feet, scalding hot.

 

“What are you doing here?” Luther spits into his face, eyes wild with rage. He doesn’t even give Diego a chance to reply. “I was just at the hospital with Allison, in case you were wondering. She’s alive, barely. Funny story, since you ask.”

 

“I didn’t—”

 

“Apparently the paramedics were called to her apartment last night. They found her lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood with a cut throat. Funnily enough the person who made the call was nowhere to be found.”

 

Diego swallows, curling his fingers into fists in preparation and hoping to god that Klaus doesn’t come out of his room. He’s not sure who he’d be more worried for in that situation.

 

“Luther, I don’t—”

 

“Even _more_ strange is that about ten minutes before someone called the ambulance Allison tried to call me, and I didn’t fucking pick up. What do you think, Diego, was she scared? Was she trying to call for help? You tell me because I have no fucking clue.” Luther’s guilt is something he can deal with later, or most probably not deal with and ignore like they do the rest of the family’s trauma. Right now he has to puzzle what Luther’s words actually mean. Allison called him? When? As far as Diego knows Allison was sleeping until his argument with Klaus woke her up.

 

“Luther, I swear to you, I honestly don’t know why she…” And then a memory pops into his head: Klaus in the dim light of Allison’s room, her phone in his hand, a guilty expression on his face.

 

Son of a bitch. Had the little whore really gone and lied to him again?

 

Unfortunately Luther doesn’t take Diego’s moment of silence as the moment of revelation it actually is. His face contorts into something ugly and furious, and if Diego knows his brother at all it means he’s about to do something brash and reckless. Something that will probably end in broken bones and bloody noses.

 

“Don’t fucking play dumb with me, Diego.” He spits, going for Diego’s neck with a massive, outstretched hand. Too distracted to dodge it, Luther has him slammed up against the wall in no time; the pictures on the walls rattle and the doorknob to Diego and Klaus’ bedroom starts to turn. “I know you were there. You were there, someone cut her throat and suddenly you turn up here in the middle of the night with no explanation. Bullshit. What did you do to her?”

 

“ _Nothing_.” Diego chokes out, having to stand on his tiptoes so he doesn’t suffocate right here. There’s the sound of soft, padding footsteps and a sharp inhalation of breath; Luther’s head whips around and his grip around Diego’s neck loosens, so they can both look at the boy in front of them. He’s at least got some clothes on: a hoodie, unzipped to show off his smooth chest and the purple marks Diego left on him, and a pair of Diego’s old tracksuits. Luther scowls.

 

“Are you seriously dragging a _child_ into your fucked up life, Diego?” Luther bites harshly, fingernails digging in around his Adam’s apple. He can feel them, short and sharp, breaking the skin. “Listen to me, kid, you need to get out while you can.”

 

Klaus stands motionless, eyes flicking between Luther and Diego in panic. That’s a look Diego recognises— he even recognises the state Klaus is working himself up to. It’s what he looked like, just before he did what he did to Allison, and if Luther isn’t careful it looks like the same thing is going to happen all over again.

 

“Luther, stop it.” Diego hisses out, the tips of his fingers going numb.

 

“No, shut up. He deserves to know what he’s getting himself into, doesn’t he?” He turns to Klaus, though how he doesn’t see how angry Klaus is getting is beyond Diego. “You can’t trust him. I don’t care what he told you, he doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”

 

“Luther, let me go.”

 

“Did he tell you about Ben? Our brother Ben?” Diego freezes. His eyes widen and he stares at Luther, goosebumps breaking out over his arms despite himself. He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised— he knows none of them have ever really forgiven him.

 

“What…” Klaus mumbles, the first thing he’s said to them since he came out. His eyes dart to the side quickly, so quickly Diego thinks he might have imagined it, like he’s listening to someone else.

 

“Did Diego tell you how he died?” Luther carries on, missing the way Klaus’ fingers have started glowing the slightest bit blue.

 

“Stop it,” Diego says, but it’s weak. An empty threat.

 

“Stop it.” Klaus echoes, sounding terrified. “Please. I don’t want to…” he trails down and looks at his hands. Diego wonders if he meant that he doesn’t want to hear it or he doesn’t want to lose control again.

 

“No, you need to _know_.”

 

“It was an accident!” Diego cries, tears slipping down his cheeks for the first time in decades. He fucking hates Luther in this moment, for erasing all the walls he’d built around himself and kept strong for all these years.

 

“Bull _shit_  was it! You killed him!”

 

“ _Stop_ _it_!” Klaus screams, and throws up an arm. In a streak of blue light Luther is sent hurtling backwards and suspended in midair, arms pinwheeling and legs kicking helplessly at air like he’s trying to swim to the surface. He’s staring at Klaus, slack jawed.

 

Diego slides down the wall until he’s sitting on the floor, one leg drawn up to his chest and the other straight out in front of him. When he looks at Klaus the kid is surrounded by a swirling tornado of blue light and what looks like static electricity. For the briefest moment Diego swears he sees someone standing behind Klaus’ shoulder, arms crossed over their chest and hood up over their face, but then Klaus’ arm drops and the vision is gone. Luther falls to the floor with a heavy bang that makes the floorboards creak worryingly and doesn’t move.

 

Klaus walks forward slowly and stops in front of Diego. When he looks down, his face is eerily blank; there are dried tear stains on his cheeks but other than that he looks totally emotionless. As Diego looks up at him with red eyes and a circle of bruises around his neck in the shape of Luther’s fingerprints all he can think is, how did it end up like this?

 

Then, slowly, Klaus holds out his hand. Diego takes it and pulls himself up.

 

“He’ll be fine.” Klaus says in a soft, empty voice.

 

“Yeah.” Diego agrees mindlessly, his throat on fire every time he tries to talk.

 

“I want to know what happened to Ben.” Klaus turns to him, somehow managing to look expectant and totally blank at the same time.

 

“Yeah,” Diego says again. “Okay.”

 

It’s not like this hasn’t been a long time coming.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WasteOfAnArrow and I are writing a fic together!! You can check it out [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19137622/chapters/45482452) if you want! <3


End file.
